


Pirate's Map

by RubyMagnolia



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Worship, F/F, Fluff, Weight Gain, stretch marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyMagnolia/pseuds/RubyMagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of not getting enough food, Hawke suddenly has enough. It starts to make an impact on her body. After some distress, Hawke reveals it to Isabela, who shows off her own "imperfections."</p><p>
  <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13010.html?thread=55896786#t55896786">Kinkmeme Fill</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pirate's Map

Hawke wasn't usually vain. But this was Isabela. Isabela had the body of a goddess, and Hawke ached to touch it, run her hands over that dark, shimmering skin, and hold her close, eating Isabela out until the rogue screamed her pleasure to the world.

She was perfect.

Hawke, eating properly for the first time in many long years and combined with all of that running through the countryside, had gotten healthier. And bigger.

It wasn't the weight or the muscle that was the issue, but the stretch-marks that journeyed over her hips and thighs in stripes against her amber-brown skin. They were embarrassing.

She'd done her best to fix them with magic but beyond delving into blood magic, there was nothing she could do.

So when she wriggled into her tightening leggings that morning, the ones she wore under her robes, she didn't expect to be peeling them off for the eyes of another in the evening. Intense golden eyes. Like a cat's.

Hawke fumbled with her clothes until Isabela sighed and sat up from the languid spread she had adopted on Hawke's bed.

"What's wrong, kitten?" she asked.

"A little stage fright," admitted Hawke.

"Darling, it's only me," said Isabela.

Hawke huffed. Her hands stilled on the buttons of her robes.

"That's the problem, 'Bela. You're perfect. I'm not."

"I like scars," said Isabela.

The pirate's brow furrowed in confusion. This was awkward. Usually other lovers would be kissing her passionately by now at the very least – more likely they were to be mostly undressed and rutting at one another.

Yet Hawke was gentle and kind and intelligent. But something was holding her back. A well-placed leer of disgust would hurt anyone's self-esteem, but Hawke was particularly sensitive and Isabela often wondered exactly how Hawke had made it through a year with mercenaries.

"And I'm not perfect," said Isabela.

She held up a finger to silence Hawke as the mage tried to protest. Isabela plucked at her corset, letting her waist and belly free of the confines. She trailed one hand up her leg, rubbing it over her belly and waist where the boning of the corset had pressed into her skin. It hadn't always been this way – when Isabela had been with her husband, she had been quite slender – but when she had been freed from matrimony, Isabela had done everything to distance herself from that relationship.

So she ate. And ate. And let herself start to fill out, abandoning trousers when her rump grew too large for them, rubbing her softening belly in delight. The small waist that her husband had enjoyed so much widened, and eventually she started catching the eyes of interested lovers for very different reasons. Eventually she wore a corset to accentuate her ass, but no lover had denied loving every part of her body.

Yet with this growth came stretch marks. But Isabela didn't care. And she didn't care that Hawke was getting wider hips as well, and that she had stretch marks from it. She loved men but women, women were full of warmth and put on muscles and weight in the most delightful way.

"Touch me, sweet bird," said Isabela. "I'm not perfect."

"You are to me," said Hawke.

"Then accept that you're perfect to me as well."

Hawke forgot her robes, crawling onto the bed, hands squeezing Isabela's hips and waist. Strands of white hair fell into Hawke's eyes as Isabela pulled out her hair ribbon.

It seemed Hawke was content to examine Isabela's body all night, but Isabela hadn't the privilege of disrobing Hawke since before the acquisition of the manor.

In fact, Hawke thought, it had been some years since anyone had seen her without clothes.

Distracted by this and by the glorious body before her, Hawke didn't realise Isabela was undoing her robes until they slid off her shoulders, crumpling to the floor in a heap, naked except for her leggings and breast band.

She went a bit red. Her hands fluttered to her hips, hiding the stretch marks that peeked above the waistband of her leggings.

"No, no, those clothes come off," said Isabela.

"You first?" Hawke asked, her big eyes pleading.

Isabela leant up, kissed Hawke on the lips and pulled her tunic off, leaving her in dainty smalls and no breast band. Stretch marks adorned her body, all over her legs and stomach, her thighs pressing together, spreading out. Hawke gazed at them reverently, fingers trailing over them all, darting about as she tried to figure out which one to touch next.

"See? I have them too," said Isabela.

Stomach flipping and churning, Hawke slipped out of her leggings, her thighs and ass seemingly growing larger as they weren't compressed by tight cloth.

She sat down.

"See? Not nearly as bad as you think," said Isabela.

Pulling Hawke forward, Isabela wrapped her legs around Hawke's waist. Immediately Hawke went to touch her, fascinated with Isabela's belly and thighs. They stole kisses as they pressed together, Isabela showing every single stretch mark on her body, and lavishing tenderness on every mark on Hawke's.

Strong muscles tensed in Hawke's legs, as she lifted Isabela and shuffled closer to the pillows.

"Oh my, sweet bird, you've got great legs," Isabela purred. "You've been getting some work with them."

"You've got great hips," replied Hawke.

"I know."

Isabela laughed, wrapping her arms around Hawke, throwing her into the pillows and pulling off her tiny smalls. Hawke watched eagerly, quivering as Isabela lowered her hands to cup Hawke's breasts and undo the faded, old breast band.

Hawke's smalls came off, equally as inappropriate for a mage of her standing. They were going to go shopping in the morning and get the prettiest undergarments Kirkwall had to offer.

They didn't end up having sex, much to Hawke's surprise. They laid there for hours, playing with skin, watching and stroking goosebumps, licking and kissing thighs, breasts, bellies, lips, shoulders, and all of the scars and stretch-marks that came with them. Hawke fell asleep in Isabela's arms, more contented that they hadn't had sex than if they had. The pirate enjoyed this sensitivity, and sensuality. It was intimate without getting one another off.

Of course, Isabela still wanted to see Hawke scream as she rode out waves of bliss. There was no doubt about that, no sir! But playing with milky white hair and bronze skin was a relaxing change of pace.

When Hawke awoke Isabela was next to her, asleep, but all of Hawke's robes had gone missing. Laid out on her bed-chest was a black tunic, similar to Isabela's but with blue stitching and a sash to match.

"It was the best I could do on short notice," said Isabela.

"Where are the rest of my clothes?"

"Hidden. You'll get them back, but I want to see you in this outfit," said Isabela. "You shouldn't waste your legs, not with those muscles. You're an absolute delight to watch walking."

Hawke flushed in pleasure and pulled on the tunic. It was short, hem ending mid thigh, the split rising high to her hips. The cut of the line wasn't as low as Isabela's. It cupped Hawke's breasts, the neckline turning into a pointed hood. Finally, there was her regular belts and stockings, feet stuffed into her regular boots.

It was single handedly one of the hottest things Isabela had ever seen.

"Do a crunch," ordered Isabela.

"Yes, captain," said Hawke.


End file.
